Helter Skelter
by astraea2
Summary: Or: Getting Spike Out of the Basement by Means of a Plot.
1. Default Chapter

When I get to the bottom  
I go back to the top of the slide  
Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride  
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again

                                                    _The Beatles_

"We're going back to the beginning"

                                                    _Joss Whedon, 2002_

Spike: Don't tell me you've never heard of the Beatles.

Adam: I have. I like 'Helter Skelter.'

_                                                   The Yoko Effect_

All beginning with:

***********************************************

The October/November Challenge at The Watching You Awards

***********************************************

  
Post-"Lessons". Don't incorporate "Beneath You".  
  
Must include 3 of the following places:  
• Spike's crypt  
• Willie's (with Willie in it!)  
• The one Starbucks in Sunnydale  
• Anywhere in Los Angeles  
• Willow & Tara's old room at Buffy's  
  
2 of the following must occur:  
• Crossover with Angel (the season 3 finale has or hasn't occurred, your pick)  
• Buffy quits the Doublemeat Palace  
• The return of Willow  
• D'Hoffryn comes to town  
  
Must include 3 of the followng objects/people:  
• Kit & Carlos (Dawn's new friends)  
• A trashy romance novel  
• Halfrek  
• The First Evil  
• Clem  
• The pile of missing left socks  
• Spike's ratty Lay-Z-Boy


	2. Belonging

"She can't have."

"She really has," raged Buffy. "You cannot understand how dead I am going to kill her."

"Relax, Buffy," Xander urged the irate slayer, plucking the offending piece of paper from her hand and frowning at it.

"I'm going to *kill* her!" Buffy repeated, finishing on a squeak.

"Murder - not the Guardian-of-the-Year method for dealing with the teenagers," Xander soothed.

"Loosing the teenager isn't high on the list either," retorted Buffy, grabbing the paper back and scrunching it into a tiny ball.

"So. Now that the paper is dead we should probably do the whole 'plan' thing."

"LA! The concert is in LA!" yelled Buffy, beginning to pace again. "She went to *LA*! When I said she couldn't. She asked and I said no and then she went."

"Teenagers today." Xander shook his head sadly. As Buffy glared at him, he took a step backwards with his hands in front of him. "Backing away from scary Slayer temper tantrum here," he informed her. "Buffy, you need to calm down about this."

"Calm down? She could get hurt or she could get killed or she could get robbed or she could try to get into a bar with a fake ID….." Buffy trailed off in horror, her mind balking at the sheer range of ways in which Dawn could get into trouble in LA. Going to a concert; a concert that she wasn't allowed to go to.

She unscrunched the note once more and read aloud. "Hi Buffy. We've gone to LA. Sorry. You can kill me when I get back but I HAD to see The Foo Fighters." Buffy infused her reading with more sarcasm than she had managed on any of the first three occasions. "Well, there you have it. She HAD to go."

"And you never did anything like this when you were her age?" suggested Xander, half-smiling.

"I ran away from home for *one* summer because I killed my boyfriend and sent him to hell. And got kicked out of school." She glanced up at Xander. "Okay, I was way worse. But you know what? I wasn't the one who had to take care of me! I'm worried about her, Xander."

"She'll come back," said Xander. Noting the impending temper tantrum, he quickly amended his suggestion to, "Or we can go and find her?"

"Yes," said Buffy, sounding calmer. "We go to LA. We find the concert and drag her out by the ear, thus ensuring that she is publicly humiliated and never wants to set foot outside her bedroom again. We'll go now."

"That plan does make going to work more difficult," pointed out Xander. "Don't you have a shift tonight?"

"I'm going to go deal with that right now," said Buffy, with a look of determination. "Won't be long."

*****

"And then they said 'If you were as committed to your work as you are to your outside interests, you'd have a bright future ahead of you' and I said 'I've worked double shifts when you asked, why can't you let me have this weekend off?' and they said 'You need to prioritise your time, Miss Summers' and I said 'My family comes first' and they said 'If you want this job you need to be more responsible' and I said 'Maybe I don't want this job' and they didn't say anything so I said 'I quit!'"

"It's a great story, Slayer," said Willie nervously, "But you're scaring my customers away, you know."

"I'm scaring the demons?" Buffy looked about the bar. Various guarded faces, studiously avoiding her direction. "And that's not a thing I'd ever want to do."

"Did you want something?" Willie asked, edging nervously away from her. "Information? *Anything*?"

"Have you heard anything about Spike lately?" she asked casually.

Willie's demeanour changed. "Spike? No. Not around here," he said stiffly. "Last I heard…."

"What?" said Buffy, her voice hard and low.

"Last I heard, he was dead."

"No he's not." _A vision of Spike in the basement, that look in his eyes. Buffy finished her drink and left. _

"Or may as well be," muttered Willie, watching her leave.

*****

"Spike?" she called, nervously. Stupid Hellmouth. "Spike!" she repeated, a little louder. "I know you're here somewhere. If you make me traipse around this hellhole looking for you, I'll….oh!"

"You summoned me, your ladyship?" he questioned, bowing before her, arm sweeping the floor.

"Can you cut the crazy? Please? I just…." She stopped. She just nothing. She should be running to LA with all the slayer-speed imaginable and instead she was sneaking around a school basement looking for him. And now she'd found him. Which meant she should probably be saying something 'round about now…

"Sorry 'bout the other day," he said abruptly. "It was all…." His eyes wandered around the room. "It wasn't!" he said to the ceiling, glowering at it. "It was a spell," he shrugged to Buffy.

"O-kay. I didn't…I wasn't sure what….I'm going to LA, I just wanted to make sure you weren't doing a Hannibal Lector on yourself," she said uncomfortably, her eyes drawn to his clothed chest.

"No consuming the merchandise." He laughed humourlessly. "What's in LA?"

"Oh, Dawn ran off," grumbled Buffy. "I wanna find her and then lock her in a dungeon until she's eighteen."

"You don't have a dungeon."

"Never too late to get a dungeon."

"It's always too late," he muttered, turning away.

Buffy sighed. "Anyway. Me. Going to LA. So…."

"I'm going to LA." He looked at her levelly.

"No," she said patiently. "*I* am going to LA. With Xander. *You* are…..living on the Hellmouth. Why, I do not know. I checked your crypt and it's there and everything. Bit stinky and damp, but it's there."

"I'm going to LA," he repeated, meeting her eye.

"What is your *problem*? Is this about Angel? Because, I swear…"

"Knock it right out of me, he will," Spike commented inconsequentially. "Bang!" He punched one fist into his other hand.

"You can't come with me," said Buffy firmly. "It would cause, like, death and disaster. And anyway, *why*?"

"I didn't say I was going with *you*," he said, sounding suddenly sane. Lucid. Determined. _Spike-like, she thought._

"How are you going to get there?" She reached out to lightly tough his shoulder.

"Doesn't matter." He shrugged her off.

"It really does. Because unless your melanin levels have changed as much as your  - _brain – has, you can't just hitch a ride to LA."_

"Still a vampire," he nodded. 'Once a vampire, always a cuckoo."

Buffy's eyes, half closed in despair, fluttered open. "Got that bit right," she sighed. "Okay, come with. Because that won't make for an awkward trip or anything. But I swear to God above and the Hellmouth below, if this is all some lame-ass trick, Spike, I will fill you so full of stakes you'll look like a porcupine."

"Think nothing of it," was his only reply.

"Xander should take this well," she groaned, leading the way out.

*****

"He's out of his mind," she argued.

"And it's contagious, so of course now *you* are too," reasoned Xander, shaking his head.

"Xander, please. He's….I don't know what's wrong but he's strange."

"He's a vam-pire," Xander explained slowly.

"He tried to cut his heart out!" hissed Buffy, trying to lower her voice at the vague memory of vamp-hearing.

"Al-righty. Why?"

"I don't know and I don't know where he's been or what's happened to him but I'm not leaving him here to kill himself."

"And again with the why?"

"I don't know." Buffy admitted. She looked pleadingly at her friend. There wasn't an answer to that one.

"What is it with you girls that when Spike wants to kill himself, we have to take him places?" grumbled Xander, his hands raised in a gesture of defeat. "I don't think you have sufficient regard for miracles of nature."

"He says he's going to LA. The state he's in, I'm afraid he'll try and walk there in the full light of day."

"And that would be a tragedy for all concerned…Okay! He can come. He's not going to *talk*, is he?"

"He's not going to talk sense anyway."

*****

"What's his problem?" complained Xander.

"I'm starting to think drugs," admitted Buffy, glaring at the object of discussion.

"She caressed his cool alabaster skin…." Spike continued to read, the incessant muttering from the back of the car just loud enough to fray the nerves of both Buffy and Xander. And the subject matter wasn't helping.

"You don't think it's a cunning vampire plot to drive us insane?" asked Xander, craning his neck to glare at Spike and the trashy romance novel the vampire continued to read from.

"He watched her in adoration…." Spike continued, seemingly oblivious to the controversy.

"And where the hell did he get that thing?" groaned Xander.

"I don't know, but I'm going to make him eat it if he doesn't shut up soon."

"I think I preferred him when he was evil. Insane Spike is really bugging me."

"From the big glow-y fucker," Spike informed them, impatiently. "I put up a fight, I'll have you know."

"Right, that's it." Buffy reached into the back of the car and grabbed the book. He clung to it. As they wrestled briefly, his eyes lit up. She tugged the book from his grasp and threw it out the window.

"Done and done," she informed Xander.

"You can kill one, but they keep on coming," said Spike quietly.

"Earplugs would have been a really great addition to this little extravaganza," pondered Xander.

"I know. And I'm sorry for dragging you along. Especially for dragging you *and* him along. I really do appreciate this."

"Not a prob. Though we need to not make this a regular weekend routine."

"I'm on it already. Got a whole dungeon plan."

"Go easy on the kid," said Xander, with a sympathetic glance. "New school year, new friends, new ways to drive you out of your mind – it's what being a teenager's all about."

"Her friends. It's all her friends fault! I thought they were nice kids who wouldn't kidnap her and drag her to cities where my ex-boyfriend-the-vampire lives!"  
  
"Yes. Dawn is surely an unwilling pawn in their fiendish plot," Xander returned. "C'mon, Buff. You know it was probably her idea!"

"I'm right here you know," Spike spoke up. They turned to him, confused.

"Sure y'are," said Xander. He exchanged a look with Buffy who shook her head.

"Why is it that when one thing gets back to normal, two things go back to crazy?" she grouched. "And when two things get normal, four things go crazy. And when…"

"Give me something to work with here, Buff," said Xander. "You know, concrete examples."

"I'm just saying, I think it's like a mathematical law." She gasped in sudden horror. "Math is taking over the world!"

"_Concrete," emphasised Xander._

"Well, for _example, mister construction dude, Dawn's been really good lately, totally over the klepto thing, and she and I are getting along. Then she pulls this and we all have to take off across the country. And bring the crazy vampire who used to be just the annoying vampire." Her face twisted slightly in ill-concealed concern. "And after a year of fighting the forces of finances, things were getting back on track, sort of. And I was looking forward to the whole being a part-time counsellor thing and now I have to start looking one of those real jobs that pay the real-life rent. With all my glorious burger-flipping experience, that's gonna be a laugh."_

"Don't know that your numbers are adding up, but I get the idea. You do remember that you live on a hellmouth, right?"

She shot him a look.

"And the way I see it, we're all alive. We're all _happy to be alive. None of us are plotting the end of the world and we ain't datin' demons!"_

She smiled in spite of herself.

A "You say I'm crazy," was heard from the back of the car.

"Have done, do and will again," commented Xander, to no one in particular. "Hey, isn't this where we're going?"

"Yes," said Buffy grimly, scowling at the offending venue that dared to host concerts and corrupt her sister.

"So we….?" Xander looked at her inquiringly.

"So we wait until she comes out," Buffy conceded, crossing her arms.

"And then….It's gonna be late. You wanna drive straight back?"

"Oh, sorry Xander. You must be tired. I could drive back?" offered Buffy.

"You? Could drive to Sunnydale? At night? No."

"Could too!"

"Could not," echoed Spike from behind them. Buffy turned and glared at the offending vampire. He gazed blankly at the window.

"Buffy, the crazy man's talking more sense than you. We're staying here tonight. We'll drive home tomorrow."

"Xander, did I mention the bit about me quitting my job, the source of all income?"

"Only four or five times."

"I know you're flush these days with the contractual goodness, but we can't afford a hotel."

"We can get somewhere," argued Xander.

"For me, you, an insane vampire and any number of delinquent teenagers?"

"I see your point."

Buffy took out her phone. "Having a cell phone rocks," she commented, pressing buttons.

"Who are you calling? 'Cause, you wouldn't be thinking of….Buffy, no! We can like, get a mortgage or something…..Noooooo!"

"Hi? Angel? It's Buffy. We're having a bit of a mini-emergency….."

******

"Buffy." Dawn examined her sister's face. Few signs of homicidal rage. Okay, this was going alright so far. "You've met Kit and Carlos, right?"

"Yes," Buffy ground out. "How was your concert?" she asked with decidedly fake cheer.

"It was the *best*! And we got autographs. And before, we went to the band's hotel and I got David Grohl to sign my album!" Dawn twirled in excitement.

"But you didn't get arrested for stalking?" Buffy checked. Dawn shook her head in denial. "Because that might interfere with my plan to lock you in a dungeon until you're eighteen."

"We don't have a dungeon," Dawn felt the need to point out.

"I can build one," said Buffy grimly.

"Dungeon on the Hellmouth is a bad plan," said Dawn. "It would be like, 'hi, Dungeon Monster?'"

"Well I hope you and the Dungeon Monster get along well. That's the only company you'll be keeping until your *two* *year* *grounding* is finished!" Buffy marched ahead.

"Am I really grounded?" Dawn asked Xander. 

"Very much so. Until she forgets," said Xander, seeming preoccupied.

"Where are we staying tonight?"

He scowled.

"We're staying with Angel, right? Ouch." Dawn looked at him sympathetically.

Xander said nothing.

"Angel is a vampire with a whole lame soul-thing going on," Dawn explained to her friends. "My sister's ex."

Kit and Carlos looked at one another. Then to Xander, who remained stoic. Then looked at Dawn. Carlos finally broke the silence.

"When you said that last eek was….ghosts…." He faltered. Dawn folded her srms across her chest. "You were for real, weren't you?" he asked.

"Yes," said Dawn simply.

"And there are actual _things, like you said? Vampires and stuff?"_

"Yes," repeated Dawn. "What, you thought I was making it up?!"

"Nooo. Well, yeah. Vampires are real. Cool!"

"Kids these days," marvelled Xander. "No falling over with the shock. I blame it on the MTV and the bad horror films."

"Well I'm sorry you have to see Angel," said Dawn, grabbing his arm. "It'll be fun though. I promise."

"And Spike is here," said Xander calmly, not looking at any of them.

"Here? *Here*, here?" Dawn dropped Xander's arm and turned to her friends. "Spike's a demon with no soul of any kind. Another ex," she said stonily.

"Your sister has issues," commented Carlos.

"Tell me about it. Xander, I'm not talking to him!"

"Shouldn't be a problem."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

*****

At the Hyperion, uncomfortable greetings were exchanged.

"Thanks for letting us stay. I appreciate this." Buffy glared at her sister as she promised, "It won't be happening again."

"Not a problem. Um, how many people exactly?"

"Well, there's us," Buffy indicated herself, Dawn, Kit and Carlos. "And then there's Xander and….Spike."

Both Angel and Cordelia looked less happy.

"Xander's here?" squeaked Cordelia. "I mean - *Spike's* here?"

"They're both here," Buffy confirmed. "Sorry."

"Why is Spike here?" asked Angel politely, his fists clenched so tight that Buffy could see the white ridges.

"With the hounds of hell at his feet." Spike, staggering through the door, looked Angel up and down. "You'd know that feeling, mate. You and the horsemen."

Angel turned to Buffy. "What the hell is up with him?" he demanded. "And why is he *here*?"

"I think it's good to see you're showing me such a good example in terms of *substance abuse*!" Dawn told her sister pointedly, still refusing go to look at the once-favoured vampire.

Buffy shrugged dismissively. This was all weird beyond weird. She wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, but slayer instincts of hell-avoidance led her to feel she might be keeping the peace around here for some time to come.

"Like we don't have enough…." Cordelia broke off in mid-sentence as her eyes focussed on Spike's. "Holy fuck!" she breathed.

"What?" said Angel quickly, laying a hand on her sleeve. Buffy looked at them with a hint of envy.

"Oh my god," said Cordelia. "Nothing," she added, turning to Angel and voice returning to normal.

"Buffy, can I talk to you a minute?" asked Angel. He indicated the door.

"Sure," said Buffy, stifling a groan. There was going to be 'A Talk.'

"Can I talk to Spike?" said Cordelia, still looking a little odd.

"Knock yourself out," said Buffy. "In fact, feel free to knock him out while you're at it."

Cordelia, followed by a scowling Spike, left the room.

Buffy and Angel left in the opposite direction, closing the door behind them.

Xander and Dawn looked at each other.

"I always say that everything bad can be blamed on a vampire," announced Xander. Both Kit and Carlos seemed interested.

"Even undone homework?" asked Carlos.

"Especially undone homework."

*****

"What's up with Spike?"

"Dunno. What's up with Cordelia?"

"Dunno."

They smiled a little at one another.

"He was away all summer," Buffy finally elaborated. "When he came back, he was doing the Ozzy Osbourne thang."

"Cordy's a seer. And - a demon."

"Well. Okay, then."

"So I guess we leave them to it."

"Cordelia's a *demon*? No, I didn't ask."

They sat in uncomfortable silence.

"So," said Angel eventually. "Why are you looking after crazy Spike?"

"Look, Angel. My life is none of your business." She wondered if she had managed to dramatically overstate her objection.

"Sure. I know. Sorry." He stopped. And looked at her. "Why would Spike and 'Your life' be in the same sentence?"

"They aren't," she assured him. "Although if they were, that would be because I had a fling with him last year."

"Youhada….."

As Buffy looked him square in the eye, she considered the possibility that perhaps she _did walk on the dark side. Because the overwhelming temptation as she looked into his very confused face was to giggle. It occurred to her that Spike – sane Spike – would have enjoyed this scene. Biting back the feeling of __nostalgia? regret? she quickly asked, "So you and Cordelia, huh?"_

Angel gaped a bit, before finally smiling. Then laughing.

"We've moved on, haven't we?" he said, and she could see the wonder in his eyes.

"You moved on to Cordelia!" she had to point out, beginning to laugh.

"You moved on to *_Spike*?!" he managed._

"Hey! You're dating a demon!" she argued, clutching the chair to steady herself.

"_Spike!" he repeated._

"Not really," she said, calming down.

"Just be careful," he said, serious again.

"You too – I mean, _major credit card bills follow that girl around."_

"She's changed," he said gently.

"I know," she replied. "So have I."

For a moment, they co-existed in perfect understanding. Buffy felt herself consciously relaxing. All was – _not entirely bad with the world._

"You know there's something coming, right?" he interrupted her thoughts, looking serious.

"Is it bringing pizza?" she enquired. "_I know," she assured him, upon not getting a laugh. "Dreams….and stuff. I don't know what it is." She looked at him questioningly._

"Cordelia's been getting vibes. Strange stuff, nothing specific. But even I can feel it."

Buffy sighed. Apocalyptic fun that could be felt all the way from Sunnydale to LA was going to be a whole new rollercoaster of hideous fun-lessness.

"I just wanted to say – call if you need us," he said sincerely. "Don't die for the lack of a phone call."

She nodded, touched. "Dying is *not* on the gameplan this year. Getting a job is. And see – cell phone?" She held it up for inspection. "So I can call and say things like, 'Hey, the world's about to be sucked into hell!'"

"You can just call and say 'hi!' too," he reminded her.

"That's technically true," she admitted. 

"Hey, guys!" called Cordelia. She looked enquiringly into the room, as though waiting for an invitation. Buffy felt guilty. _She lives here._

"Did you talk to him?" she asked, a little scared of the answer.

"Well, 'talk' is probably overstating it. I don't think he's quite in the mood to talk to some random stranger yet."

"But you know what's wrong with him." Buffy resented the worry she could hear in her own voice. Worry over _Spike._

"You really don't know," Cordelia realised.

"What?"

"Why he's so….why he's acting this way."

"He says spell. I think drugs," said Buffy, hoping her anxiety didn't show.

"She really doesn't know," said Cordelia, smiling at Angel.

"Know what?" he asked.

She smacked him around the head. "How *stupid* are men?" she despaired. "How can you not have seen it?"

"I'm not a seer!" Angel excused himself, rubbing his head. "And ow! And….what?"

"He's your vampire – relative – thing!" Cordy continued to expound. "How can you not pick up on it?"

"On wha-aa - oh. Oh. Oh my god." Angel sat down. "He has a *soul*? How did he get it? *Why* did he get it? Why did he come here? Oh my god." He stood up again. He sat back down.

"Spike has a…" Buffy laughed. "Spike doesn't have soul! Spike has a soul?!"

"You two are sooo stupid," Cordelia informed them. 

"Spike has a soul," whispered Buffy, unexpectedly finding herself sitting down.

"He came here to get beaten up by you." Cordelia poked Angel in the stomach, perhaps more vigorously than strictly necessary.

"Why?"

"Masochistic soul-sire thing," said Cordelia, concisely. 

"I'm going to talk to him."

"Talk, not beat," Cordelia reminded him, smiling a little.

He strode out, purposefully, muttering, "Talk…."

The two girls looked at one another awkwardly.

"Look, I know we were never bestest buddies," began Cordelia.

"Angel trusts you," Buffy interrupted. "That's enough." She closed her eyes. "What did you see?" she asked, hoping the girl understood.

"Pain. Just pain."

Buffy felt her eyes fill with tears. "He did it on purpose – because of……?"

"You? Oh yeah. Buffy, I saw a whole lot of stuff. Some of it, I don't understand. Some of it I guess you wouldn't want me to know."

"Last year." Buffy bowed her head. It was amazing how *shamed* she felt, knowing that another person had seen all that, seen her behaviour, even through space and time. "You saw everything?"

"Okay, you have to understand, this whole 'seer' thing is weird. I get emotions and images and a big old jumble sometimes. And then some stuff stands out. Like, the pain. Like you – you *dancing*?"

"Oh god."

"And Spike saving you. And your pain. Buffy, I don't know what the hell went on, but…."

"Oh god," whimpered Buffy.

"I could feel what he felt. And why he….."

"Because of…."

"Yep."

They looked at each other. "I think we probably sound crazier than Spike," said Buffy, raising a watery smile. "Is he going to get over the crazy?"

"I don't know. I know it's probably up to you."

Buffy stiffened.

"The soul is at war with the demon and Spike's caught in the crossfire somewhere. Angel got through it."

"Eventually."

"He ever tell you how?"

"Not exactly." Buffy frowned.

Cordelia smiled knowingly, if a little sadly. "It's probably up to you."

"_So not in my mission statement," grumped Buffy. "I *kill* vampires. I have *never* stood in Sunnydale cemeteries and preached at them, trying to make them see the light. Never tried to convert them. Never said 'Oh, go on, do get a soul. I promise I'll nurse you back to good mental health afterwards.'"_

She stopped as the door opened.

"Can we come in?" asked Dawn's head. "Because we're bored, and you know, we're so irresponsible we might just start playing with the lethal weapons out here. Hey – what's wrong?"

"Spike's got a soul," said Buffy in a monotone.

"What, on his shoe?" was the sarcastic reply. "Wait, Buffy, are you serious?"

 Buffy nodded silently.

"No way!" Dawn thought for a moment. "Is that why he's all….." She rotated her hand beside her head. She made a face. "Is he going to be like Angel?"

Buffy snorted. Cordelia frowned. "Hey!" she protested.

"What? Oh, no way!" Dawn stamped a foot as she made the connection, looking from Buffy to Cordelia. "Is there no hope?" she wailed dramatically. "Are we *all* doomed to date demons?"

"Dawn, get over it," said Buffy dryly. "I think you're safe. You'll be in the dungeon, after all."

"Spike's got a soul," Dawn informed her sister. It was a brave attempt at a subject-change.

"What are you *talking* about?" asked Xander.

"Oh, Spike's got a soul," said Dawn airily. It was a catchphrase worth repeating.

"It really is contagious, isn't it?" he said wonderingly, looking about the room for some support. "Because, Spike couldn't….." He stopped. "I think I'm very, very insane," he announced to the world at large.

"Why do all the vampires you know have souls?" Kit asked Xander.

"We're a very bad influence," Xander replied, looking slightly pale. 

"I'm starting to see that," agreed Kit, nodding.

*****

Angel finally returned to the increasingly tetchy group, a sullen Spike trailing behind. Buffy wondered if it was just her imagination, or did he seem more cranky and less suicidal than previously.

"We talked," was Angel's analysis.

"Like, in sentences?" asked Xander. Angel ignored him. Buffy checked Spike over for bruises. He accepted her ministrations with no more than a glare.

"And?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Angel. "It took me one hundred years."

"Plus some," muttered Cordelia.

"He'll be fine," said Buffy with a certainty she didn't feel. Although the fact that he was looking daggers at her reassured her somewhat. Pissed-off Spike was reassuringly normal.

"Well I'm just about ready to go to sleep and then wake up and pretend none of this happened," announced Xander.

Buffy felt even more reassured by Spike's look of distain.

"I'm kinda ready to curl up on the hard stone floor and fall asleep," she admitted.

"Or alternatively, we could find everyone beds," Angel offered. "This is a hotel with a hundred and twenty rooms."

"Yay for room-y goodness," Buffy cheered quietly.

"Yep, we could get about three hours sleep before we begin the fun road-trip home," Xander reminded her.

"Do we have to go by car?" asked Dawn. "All of us? It's going to be squishy." She noted her sister's expression and decided to desist. _Tomorrow. She could complain tomorrow. _

"Bed," said Buffy decisively. Everything else, and there was a lot, could be worried about tomorrow.

They were interrupted by a *poof* of smoke. Buffy groaned. Angel grabbed a sword.

"It's Halfrek," she grumbled, recognising the cause of the disturbance. "That means you don't attack her with a sword," she clarified, a tinge of disappointment evident.

Halfrek, in full demonic-visage, glanced over the assorted masses haughtily.

Angel reluctantly dropped his weapon. "Buffy, great as it is to see you again, next time you're planning a big fancy-dress reunion in my house, you might wanna call ahead first." 

"Got it." Buffy looked at him ruefully, before turning on Halfrek.

"Why are *you* here?" she demanded. "Pop concert? Got a soul?"

"I was called," said Halfrek pompously. "I was called by a young girl in fear of her life."

Slowly, all eyes turned to Dawn, who cringed.

"I may have said 'Buffy's going to kill me' a couple of times," she admitted. "But for god's sake, Hallie! We've done this already!"

"No vengeance required?" Halfrek seemed disappointed. "Anyone?" she offered, looking around the group.

"I think we're all vengeanced-out," said Buffy tiredly. "Can I wish we were all magickally back in Sunnydale without the hideous drive?"

"No," said Halfrek firmly, her lip curling at the idea.

"Oh, go on," urged Dawn. "I really, really wish it?" she pleaded.

Halfrek sighed. "Fine," she conceded. "I'll put you all back where you belong."

*****

"Okay," said Spike guardedly. "Why are we here?"

"It's your crypt," said Buffy slowly, looking around.

"Why am *I* here?" said Spike, looking uncomfortable.

"Where you're supposed to be," said Buffy with a smile, remembering. "Where you belong. The bitch got one thing right. There's no point in hiding on the Hellmouth when you've got a perfectly….ew, okay, maybe you need to clean it a bit,  but…..this is where you belong." 

She looked at the bundle of soggy cloth her hand had brushed against. "As do….all the left socks in the world," she said puzzled, gingerly picking through the mess. "Halfrek's insane. I guess that explains the truth about Vengeance demons. They're the ones that make you buy the new socks. They work for _sock companies!"___

As she babbled, Spike walked slowly around his former home, touching things with a sense of unfamiliarity. He finally stopped. And smiled at her.

"So why are *you* here?

"Because she hates me?" Buffy offered wryly. "I think I'm supposed to belong here too."

"You don't," he said.

"I really do." She touched his face. "Although, I have to say you've let the place go," she added. 

"You could help with the crypt-cleaning," he offered.

"What, now I'm an unpaid slave?" she mock-griped.

"What do you want to be?" he asked simply.

"Whatever you need." 

They began to clean the crypt.

*****

"Good old Hallie," cheered Dawn, finding herself in front of the TV in her own home.

"Dawnie?"

Dawn turned sharply at the small, scared voice behind her. And found herself looking into the frightened face of Willow.

The younger girl rolled her eyes.

"Stupid bloody Halfrek."


	3. Arriving

"Giles!" said Anya happily. "Welcome back to the Free World!"

Giles looked confusedly around the Magic Box. "Why the hell am I *here*?"

******

"You have to!" argued Dawn.

"I should unpack first," panicked Willow. "Bad beginning. With the clothes all crumpled and not in closets."

"Except that Halfrek didn't think your clothes belonged here," Dawn pointed out, ostentatiously checking for non-existent trunks.

"And that's a bad beginning already!" Willow blustered. "My stuff. I should…."

"Come and see the others," said Dawn quietly. "Willow, please."

"This is all very strange." Willow stated the obvious. "And sudden. And I don't know why I'm not where I was and I don't know if I'm ready to go see people." Seeing Dawn prepare to argue, she added quietly, "People that I nearly killed."

"You threatened to make me a ball of green energy, and hey! Here's me, talkin' to you," said Dawn softly.

Willow's eyes filled with tears.

"You're not supposed to cry about it," Dawn corrected her. "You're supposed to come with me and see everyone."

"When did you get all grown-up and ….oh, god, that's my fault too, isn't it?" Willow sat back down.

Dawn sighed in exasperation. "No sitting, no crying and no wallowing in self pity. Magic Box. Now."

Willow looked at her in something like awe. And then at her watch. "Dawnie, you do know that it's either very late or very, very early? And it's dark outside."

"Huh. Then I guess we should find out where Hallie decided to put everyone else."

*******

"You should probably see about the others," offered Spike.

Buffy glanced at him. "That was a disturbingly sensible remark. You sure cleaning stinky crypts isn't your idea of fun?"

He looked at her inquiringly.

"Happy? Soul-loose-y? Sense-talking? Sorry."

He looked at her with eyes that suggested the soul was safe.

"See about Dawn," he repeated.

"I should," she sighed. "Come with?" At his utter lack of response, she felt compelled to elaborate, "Would you like to come with me?"

"Why?" he asked, not looking at her. "What's the bloody point?"

"You sound like you again," she said, hiding her delight. Then wondered how Spike sounding like Spike could possibly bring her joy.

 Oh crazy, crazy world.

*****

"Guys? Anyone?" called Buffy, looking around the Magic Box. An unlocked shop suggested Anya should be somewhere. Unless Halfrek had relocated her to a convenient demon dimension. 

Or Mars. 

"Hey! Customer with money here!" she yelled.

"You're not a customer with money," observed Anya, appearing. "You're Buffy."

"I'm me of the no money," admitted Buffy. "Has anything – strange happened this evening? Have you seen – anyone?"

"Other than Spike standing right behind you? Which also counts as strange, I suppose. Other than that, Xander and Giles both apparated in my shop about half an hour a…."

She was cut off by Buffy's squeal of joy, as she ran straight passed the vengeance demon and towards Giles. Xander stood by at a safe distance and smiled.

"You'll crush him," fussed Anya, as Giles stumbled a little under the power of a happy slayer.

"Dawn's not here?" asked Buffy, letting Giles go. "I'd better call home and check she's okay. Before she decides to follow the Foo Fighters to Europe or something."

"The demonic cult?" asked Giles, worried.

"Almost as bad," Buffy assured him.

"There's no need to call Dawn," said Anya, raising a hand as Buffy reached for the phone. 

Buffy looked at her, frowning. "I really need to make sure she's alright, Anya. I'm worried about her," she explained carefully.

"What I meant, is that she's standing outside the door with Willow. I do understand the concept of worrying about a loved one." Anya gazed at her levelly, her voice only barely suggesting that she was offended.

_Ouch. Buffy slayer-kicked her unworking brain__. Ouch, again. And – okay, __Willow!_

Willow being dragged through the door by a determined Dawn, who was insisting, "It won't be like Jerry Springer, we'll do the 'I' statements, just *come on*!"

"Hi…..everyone." Willow stopped. And blinked.

"Willow," said Giles, voice soft and kind. "You should probably come all the way inside."

"It's all fixed-up," said Willow nervously, poised at the door and her gaze flitting about the shop.

"It cost a *lot*," said Anya purposefully. "But if you're back for good, you can start to work for me."

"Paying back your debts to society," Dawn commiserated, patting Willow on the shoulder. "It's a pain in the ass, but I got through it."

"Dawn," said Buffy, dangerously quietly. "Do you remember our little talk about the dungeon?"

"What dungeon?" asked Giles.

"Don't you start!" scolded Buffy. "Shouldn't we all – sit down and – drink tea – or something?"

"I think that's appropriate," said Giles. "Then someone can explain why the hell I'm here!"

"It wasn't me!" said Willow quickly. "I was doing absolutely nothing, and then suddenly *poof* I was here." She looked at Giles in bewilderment. "And apparently, you were too."

"Tea first. Or really strong coffee," yawned Buffy. "Beating up Halfrek later."

"Halfrek?" Anya raised her head in sudden interest. "What did Halfrek do?"

Buffy uttered a quiet growl that encouraged Anya to change tack. "Spike is here," she informed the group. "Why is Spike here?"

"Was Spike *not* here?" asked Willow tentatively.

"Been away," he explained abruptly.

"Oh. Welcome back," said Willow, still confused.

"You too."

They shared a half-smile, undisturbed by a sighing Buffy or an eye-rolling Xander. And then Willow howled in what sounded like horrible pain.

She collapsed, screaming, to the ground.

Xander shot Spike a look of blame.

"Willow?" "What's wrong?" "Are you okay?" Through the chorus of noisy concern, Giles managed to push his way to help the girl.

"Hellmouth," she croaked. "I saw it again."

Xander and Buffy looked at one another. _Hellmouth__? Never good._

"I looked at Spike – and I saw…" she choked a little. "Hellmouth."

"Spike and the Hellmouth," said Xander. "Why doesn't that seem like an odd combination?"

"Cordelia didn't see the Hellmouth when she looked at Spike." Buffy felt strangely and unreasonably defensive.

"Why would *Cordelia* see anything when she looked at *Spike*? Why would Cordelia *look* at Spike?" asked Xander, argumentatively.

"Cordelia's a seer," said Buffy, matter-of-factly. "And a demon," she continued less certainly. " A demon-y-seer-y thing. I'm not exactly sure, but Angel seems to think it's okay."

Xander seemed to choke on air.

"Angel seems to be dating her," added Dawn cheerfully.

Xander coughed and then gagged.

"Maybe not strictly relevant to this situation," said Buffy quietly to her sister.

"Good background info," said the younger girl innocently. They shared a smile.

"I think we might be missing the point," said Giles calmly.

"That Spike and the Hellmouth…. That…." Xander searched for the point. "It's _something bad about Spike!" he insisted as Buffy glared. _

Spike, the presumed cause of the disturbance, had instinctively retreated towards a corner of the room, fingering a cigarette tentatively. His gaze danced nervously from Buffy to Willow to Giles. And then towards the door.

"Oooh," said Willow, sitting fully up with dizzy determination. "World going round and round and round."

"It's if the world stops going round that it might be time to panic," suggested Giles dryly. "Can you remember what happened?"

"Just – like before. The mouth of….hell, swallowing us all. Hunger and pain and…uh, dizzy now."

"Water," said Anya, providing a glass. "Although this seems like an appropriate occasion for hard liquor."

Willow made a face. "Stick to the water thanks. Drunken Hellmouth visions mighten't be much fun."

"Why would you see the Hellmouth? What exactly did you see?" asked Buffy. She could feel her skin crawling, itching for a brawl. This was the part of the end of the world that she had really never liked. When there was nothing to fight and no one had their facts straight.

And the idea that Spike was somehow doing this was….she had to admit it, freaking her out a little. Her brain stopped working as soon as she wondered why.

"I had a vision….y thing in England. I saw the earth open up, with big snappy teeth." Willow attempted to mime 'big snappy teeth.' "And then, when I saw Spike, the same thing happened."

"We were assuming that it foretold the opening of the Hellmouth," continued Giles. "But that was when I was in England, and now I seem to be in Sunnydale and I'd quite like to know a little more about _that."_

"Halfrek," said Buffy, bored. Halfrek was considerably less interesting than the Hellmouth.

"This would be the – ah – Vengeance demon," said Giles carefully and diplomatically, clearly aware of Anya's thin-lipped and suspicious glare.

"Yup."

"And she had some *reason* for displacing me in this way?" said Giles testily.

"I don't think it was about you," Buffy explained. "She just said she'd put us back where we belonged, and *poof* we were all here. And you could pretend to sound a _little happier about it!"_

"You know I'm happy to see you all, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't investigate why a demon chose to move me – and Willow – half way round the world."

"Hey, Buffy, where did she put you?" asked Xander.

"We should probably check that the guys in LA are okay," Buffy busied herself by saying. She resisted the temptation to look at Spike. "God knows what she's done with them. And Dawn, you should call your friends, make sure they got home safely." She frowned. "If a bit more quickly than planned."

"Buffy?" called Giles carefully. "What was Halfrek doing exactly?"

"She just followed us to LA, making a nuisance of herself, you know Halfrek."

"Why were you in LA?"

"Because Dawn's a brat."

"Hey!" Dawn looked up with an indignant pout.

"You know you are too! There's a way of looking at this that makes it all your fault, you know."

"There's a way of looking at this that makes you a big fat hell-bitch!"

"It is so very good to be back," sighed Giles.

"So you're going to stay?" asked Buffy tentatively, turning back to Giles as Dawn stuck her tongue out.

"I think I probably should. At least until I can find a way to get home that involves an airplane."

She was aware that she pouted at him. It didn't seem to make much difference.

"Ooh - and - Hellmouth visions? And this is where the Hellmouth is!" connected Willow. "Is that why we're supposed to be here?"

"I'm *supposed* to be meeting a friend for coffee in Bath tomorrow," grumbled Giles, looking at his watch. "Or today. Or yesterday? But, yes, I'll stay here for a while."

Buffy cheered silently.

"Can we all go to sleep now?" Dawn piped up, smothering a yawn. "I'm tiiiired."

"Well, that's what happens when you run away from home and go to concerts," scolded Buffy, thinking, _hmmm, bed. "Giles? You need a place to crash?"_

"No. It's still two in the afternoon for me," he admitted. "I might just….look at the books." He gazed at the shelves fondly.

"It's good to have you back." Buffy gave him a quick hug, and from the corner of her eye noticed Spike. Still hanging back. _Well, we did accuse him of…something. Something Hellmouthy._

She looked at him curiously. Once upon his time his standing in the corner would have been bad-boy Spike. Too bad to be seen hanging around the Scoobies; too cool. Now? She wondered. Sulking? Suicidal? She couldn't tell anymore.

Over Giles' shoulder, she raised her eyebrows at the vampire. He seemed to understand her enquiry, tilting his head in the direction of the training room, where access to the sewers was located. She nodded slightly.

Relaxing a little and letting go of Giles, she turned to grab her errant sister by the collar. "You! Home!" she instructed.

"I just said I wanted to go home!" errant sister squeaked, trying to shake her off. "Willow? You coming?"

Willow, caught in the headlights of having to make decisions, faltered sadly, turning in panic from Giles to Buffy and back to Giles.

"Come with," said Buffy. "Plenty of room."

Willow followed them.

*****

"How can you be okay with what I did? I tried to suck the world into hell!"

_Pancakes, thought Buffy, looking over the empty kitchen table. This conversation would be easier with pancakes. Although that might involve making pancakes._

"I didn't say I was okay with what you did. I said I was okay with *you*. You try to end the world again, I'll get cranky."

"I just don't know how you can…."

"What you did…" Buffy hesitated. Eloquence was difficult when you'd been up for twenty-four hours. "What you did is your problem. I don't mean in a bad way. But I'm not the one who's going to do the judging. I'm guessing you have enough of your own to deal with."

The barest assenting nod of red hair. 

"So all I'm going to do is be there for you. Do you remember, years ago, Giles told me something about forgiveness being what you give people because they need it, not because they deserve it? And I didn't listen, 'cause I was busy majoring in not listening to Giles? It's all starting to make a whole lotta sense these days."

"I'm so glad Giles is here," confessed Willow, finally raising her eyes to meet her friend's. "This summer? Never would have got through it without him."

"My life? Never would have got through it without him – so nyah! Gotcha beat!"

"You're so different." Willow looked at her friend as though seeing her for the first time. "Did you get happy this summer?"

"Not exactly happy. Just – not depressed. Which was a very eye-opening experience."

"And Dawn too…" Willow spoke in wonder. "I should go away more often."

"And then you should come back."

"So we're okay? We're actually, really okay?" 

"Willow, listen to me. I had to get a lecture from _Cordelia__ Chase about letting the past go with Spike. I never want to go through *__that* again." Buffy looked at her best friend ruefully._

"That sounds tough," agreed Willow. "Did I hear right before? That she's a demon? 'Cause, I gotta say it, I called that one *years* ago!"

They exchanged a smile.

"So you and Spike are all good, with the goodliness?" 

"I have absolutely no idea what me and Spike are," Buffy said, honestly. "It was so weird to see him all in pain and crazy and  - weirder than usual." She looked to her friend and saw a nod of support. "And then, I was *happy* when he sounded like him again. I was *happy*? What the hell is that about?"

"Happy is good."

"Happy about *Spike*?!" Buffy despaired. 

"Where did Halfrek put you? When she did the 'where you all belong' spell?" asked Willow with genuine curiosity.

"Spike's crypt. With Spike." To Willow's raised eyebrow, she hastily added, "But we had clothes on! All our clothes! And there were about two hundred left socks there too." 

Surprisingly, this seemed to successfully distract Willow from the issue of Spike, with or without clothes. "Left socks?" she repeated, her forehead wrinkling.

"All left socks. I try not to say it in front of Anya, but I think Halfrek is a bit… What?"

"All left socks….. Buffy, there's something odd about that."

"What about that *isn't* odd? What about today isn't odd? It isn't even 9 am and I'm all odd-ed-out already."

"No, Buffy. It means the spell created disorder – presumably, the socks used to be in pairs. Then after the spell, the socks have been separated - thermodynamic effect. But, magick doesn't usually work that way, especially when someone experienced is doing it. Like, if I make breakfast appear for us here – not that I would, because we're going to be making breakfast the hard way, let me tell you – it shouldn't mean that someone's kitchen burns down in Sri Lanka."

"Willow, it's *9am* and you've just used words like 'thermodynamic' and 'Sri Lanka'. What are you talking about?"

"Someone asked a favour of the universe."

Buffy considered this for a moment. Taking into account the nine-am-ness of the morning, this seemed to ring some bells. "Isn't that like what happened when you brought me back? The - progesterone-thingy-ghost-monster?"

"_Tomagenisis, yes," agreed Willow with a smile. "Hence the big favour aspect. It's not the kind of thing you'd expect from a vengeance demon. And don't tell Anya I said that."_

"Justice demon," corrected Buffy, jokingly. "I believe Halfrek likes to go by the term 'Justice Demon.'"

"I think we should talk to Giles about this.  Apart from anything else, it might make him less cranky about the eight hour flight that next awaits him."

"Yeah – oh, isn't it great when really bizarre things happen and we can go to _Giles?" said Buffy happily. "I just can't get too mad with Halfrek at the moment."_

"Not sure Giles is agreeing with you, but – I know what you mean." Willow paused for a moment, before admitting, "It's really good to be back."

"Sleep before Giles?" begged Buffy. "Because I'm betting the mortgage money his solution involves really big books."

"Sleep," agreed Willow. "Although I don't know if it's day sleep or night sleep or what day it's for anymore."

"Sleep is sleep," declared Buffy, with the air of one who has discovered a happy truism.

And Willow had to agree.

*****

"Left socks? Well, now, that *is* interesting," said Giles that evening, rubbing his forehead thoughtfully. "We shall have to look into this."

"I'm glad you get it," she told him. "Because the science of sock logic seems to be more Willow's thing than mine."  

"No, she's absolutely right. Certainly have to look into it…." He wandered towards the back of the shop.

Buffy realised she was grinning at him broadly. It was amazingly good to have the world as it should be; as it had been. As it used to be, back when she didn't appreciate it in the slightest.

"Never seen you so happy to hear of research plans?" he commented quizzically.

"Oh, I'll give out when you tell me it's all a big evil sock conspiracy to end the world," she promised, still happy.

"You can't have slept in almost two days," he realised suddenly, not in any way discounting the possibility of just such a conspiracy. "Get some rest, we'll talk of this tomorrow."

"Thaaat's what I have to do," she agreed. "Rest."

Saying her goodbyes, she left the shop. 

Looked contemplatively in first one direction and then the other.

And set out for the cemetery.


End file.
